


The Chanukiah

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Chanukah, Chanukah!Fic, Graphic Sex, Holiday, Jewish Star Trek, Jewish Themes, Jewish!Spock, K/S Advent, K/S Advent 2014, M/M, Mirror Universe, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Religious and holiday celebrations of any kind are banned in the Empire, to do so is treason and risks execution.  In spite of this, Spock secretly celebrates Chanukah.<br/>Written for K/S Advent 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chanukiah

THE CHANUKIAH

 

Spock is crouched on all fours, face pressed into the pillow as Jim rams into him repeatedly. Soon he feels Kirk’s cock jerk inside of him as the man grunts out an orgasm. 

Kirk pulls away and has already gotten out of bed as Spock sinks down to his belly for a moment, then rolls over and sits up. 

Kirk quickly gathers up his discarded clothing and pulls on his underwear. “Did you come?”

“Negative.” 

“Oh well, maybe next time.”

“Perhaps,” Spock replies. The captain, his spouse for the past three point two years is only feigning concern and politeness, that much is certain, but by this time it is of no consequence. The man is his Terran wedded spouse, but not a bondmate. Again, it does not matter, any longer.

Kirk slides on his trousers, dons his golden sleeveless tunic, then his socks, thigh high boots and finally the sash as Spock walks naked across their shared quarters. Kirk does not even glance up at him. Spock enters the shower cubicle and cleans himself up. 

By the time he exits the bathroom, Kirk is long gone. 

No matter. Spock selects a fresh uniform and is fully involved in the task of dressing himself when there is a soft ‘ping’. 

“Enter,” Spock calls out, knowing that his personal guard stationed outside will protect him against any unwelcome intruders. 

The Vulcan guard salutes. “Spock, there is a parcel for you.” The guard offers up a box wrapped with brown paper and a a length of twine tied around it.

“Parcel?” Spock lifts an eyebrow and makes no attempt to touch it. To do so would be foolhardy. “Are you aware of the contents?”

“No sir.”

“Who delivered to you, this parcel?”

“It arrived via the Empirical Postal Service.” 

Odd. The sender utilized legitimate channels, however the Empirical Postal Service is seldom used. The Universal post often proves a favored avenue to mail explosive devices to an unfortunate recipient. “Was it scanned?”

“The parcel’s contents prove to be heavily shielded, Mr. Spock.”

Ah. “Destroy it,” Spock commands without touching the box. The exterior might in fact be poisoned and better the guard to suffer the consequences than he. 

“Yes, Mr. Spock.” The guard turns to go and walks a few metres before Spock halts him. His curiosity, long a fault of his, is too strong.

“A moment, my guard.” 

The guard halts. “Sir?”

The guard comes back to stand in front of him. 

“What is the parcel’s planet of origin?” Spock asks.

The guard shows him the seal. “T’Khasi, Mr. Spock.” 

Spock reaches for the package. He looks closer at the writing. The script is a high form of Vulcan that the guard, a servant, will not understand, only recognizing the planetary stamp. Fascinating. 

“The package is from my mother.” Surprise is plainly evident in Spock’s voice. His guard raises an eyebrow at that betrayal of emotion. Spock flicks his eyes up, meets the guards gaze. The guard immediately lowers his, respectfully. The guard must be punished for the transgression, via the agonizer, due to the witnessing of his personal falter, but later. He simply waves the guard away. 

The guard, ever protective of his master, hesitates. “Mr. Spock, shall I open it for you... just in case?”

“I do not believe my mother is interested in my death. In fact, quite the opposite. I must surmise that the parcel is therefore safe to open.”

“Yes, Mr. Spock.” The guard salutes and makes his exit. 

*

Spock does not open the parcel right away. He sets it on the desk, folds his arms and lets out a rare private sigh as he studies the box. Why would Mother send him a package? What would be inside this box? He did not request anything. He does not require anything. Is this a gift? What sort of gift? He resists the urge to open it right away. 

The ships bells announce the time. He must report for duty. He leaves the box right where it is.

*

Kirk is in quarters when Spock steps across the threshold. “Good evening, my spouse,” Spock offers politely. 

Kirk merely grunts back. “Where’s my evening meal?”

“I shall serve you shortly.”

Kirk lets out another grunt. Glances at his PADD. 

“I received a parcel today from the Empirical Post. The sender is my mother,” Spock informs him.

Kirk gives out yet another grunt that tells Spock that he is uninterested. “Hurry up with my dinner.”

“Acknowledged, Jim.”

Kirk heads into their bathroom without another word.

*

Spock is in the process of serving up the captain’s plate of food when he pipes up: “Jim.”

Kirk is engrossed in his PADD. He sets it down on the dining table with an air of irritation. “What.”

“My mother--”

“What does that bitch want?”

“Bitch? I beg your--”

“What, Spock? Can’t you see I’m reading?”

“Jim, my mother sent me a parcel. I thought perhaps I should open it.”

Kirk waves him off. “You don’t need my permission to open up a stupid package from your Terran mommy.” He spears a fork into his meat. “Goddammit, you didn’t cut this small enough.”

“Forgive me.” Spock slices the piece of meat in half with his steak knife. “Are you not curious as to the contents of the parcel?” He indicates the box on the desk.

Jim pauses mid chew. “Huh?”

“Never mind, Jim.”

*

Kirk has left their quarters to have a drink with Dr. McCoy and shall be gone for several hours. Spock stands next to the desk and holds the parcel in his hand. He undoes the twine, then neatly removes the paper wrap. The box is held together with old fashioned tape. He takes his dagger, slides it through the plastic.

He carefully lifts up the lid and looks down into the box. “Fascinating.” 

The contents are carefully wrapped in paper. He reaches in and pulls out a sterling silver Chanukiah. Also known as a nine branched menorah. Four on each side, with one raised higher than the other branches. It is beautiful, utilizing stunning craftsmanship. And by the looks of it, it is quite old. On closer examination he realizes that it is the one he himself has lit so long ago.

He is a Jew. His mother is a Jew and so he is also, he being born of a Jewish womb, as they say. Their household was unique, quite possibly the only Vulcan home who celebrated the old Earth Jewish holidays and adhered to Jewish custom. His father tolerated the observances and allowed them to be celebrated in the home and even built them a synagogue on the grounds, along with retaining a secret Terran Rabbi. Perhaps Sarek deep down cherished their faith as much as Amanda, and Spock as well. It has been fifteen years since his father’s assassination. The synagogue was bricked up, the torah destroyed, their home taken over by the coup, their servants beheaded. It has been years since Spock had left Vulcan for service in the Empire. Years since Spock has seen his mother, now residing in a humble cottage, subsisting on the credits that Spock is able to send her from the various missions. Somehow she has kept this menorah safe from harm all these years. 

Amanda has included in the parcel a box of white beeswax candles. He sniffs them and closes his eyes briefly. The scent brings back memories of many a Chanukah as a child. The gifts, spinning the dreidel, the gelt, the stories, the food, the singing. 

In the bottom of the box there is a hand written note:

“ _Spock, I remember those days of long ago, and cherish them so. I know you do as well. Missing you on this Chanukah. Chag Sameach, Mother._ ”

He has not celebrated the minor Jewish festival of Chanukah since joining the Empire. For that matter, neither has he observed nor made note of Rosh Hashanah nor Yom Kippur, nor Purim, nor Shabbat, nor any other major or minor holidays or observances. Religious celebrations of any kind are banned. That goes for the ancient Terran celebration of Christmas, as well. No celebrations of birth, baring the Emperor’s. No cultural festivals, no december festivals, no summer observances, none at all. Nothing shall distract the Empire from its important work. To be in possession of a religious article such as this Chanukiah, is treason. Any traitor shall be executed. 

Mother is most likely unaware of this danger. He does not wish to think this was a deliberate act to cause his death. His mother has had nothing but love and compassion for him and others. Even after the assassination that drove himself away from T’Khasi and into the Empire.

He consults his PADD laying nearby. As per the Hebrew calendar, tonight is the first night. The 25th day of Kislev.

But where to light the Chanukiah? In quarters? He cannot. His spouse might return early. As much as he cherishes James T. Kirk and would wish to share this with him, the man would not hesitate to execute him for this treasonable offense. 

He is a fool to consider lighting this.

He pulls his phaser off his belt. Sets the Chanukiah down onto the dining table. Walks a few steps back. Takes aim. His finger hovers over the trigger. 

He lowers his phaser. 

He cannot. Cannot destroy a thing of beauty, so full of memories. He will not go as far as say they were happy, but they were indeed pleasant. A simpler time, so long ago.

*

He traverses the corridor, box tucked securely under his arm, the Chanukah hidden carefully inside. The Menorah, as per custom, should be lit in front of a window, to fulfill the mitzvot and advertise the miracle. The only place that would be a suitable enough location aboard the ISS Enterprise would be the observation deck, in front of the star field. Logically he knows that no one will see the candles from there and for his safety they should not, however the deck still proves the ideal place. He can lock the door behind him. Only he or the chief medical officer or the captain would be able to enter. Kirk does not pay much attention to his comings and goings, and for that matter, neither does the doctor. He shall have the needed privacy.

*

With a lighter, he lights the shamash. He extinguishes the lighter, uses the shamash to light the candle for the first night. He sings the first blessing:

“ _Baruch atah hashem eleoheinu Melech haolam asher kideshanu bemitzvotav vetzivanu lehadlik ner Chanukah_.” 

He sings the next one and then the third blessing for the first night and remembers as a child listening to the Chanukah story, his mother telling him why his people celebrated this occasion: On 25th Kislev, in 2nd Century old Earth Calendar, a rebel Jewish group known as the Maccabees fought the much larger group of Greeks and Macedonians. The Maccabees overcame the army and rededicated the Holy Temple of Jerusalem. However there was a problem when the group wished to light the traditional seven branched menorah inside the temple. They only had enough oil to light it for one day. The group lit the menorah anyway. That one day of oil lasted eight days long. And thus forth, the celebration of the miracle with a nine branched menorah, known as the Chanukiah, eight branches with a shamash candle used to light the others, celebrating the light of freedom won by the Maccabees for the Jewish people.

They exchanged gifts each night and he and his father played Dreidel as Mother cooked the traditional foods for this occasion, fried in oil. Jelly filled donuts known as Sufganiyot and potato latkes with cranberry applesauce. There was the consumption of cheese and other dairy products to remember the Jewish heroine Judith who saved her village from Syrian attackers. Judith fed wine and cheese to the Syrian general until he became so drunk that he fell to the ground. She then seized his sword and cut off his head, and brought it back to the village in a basket. The next morning the Syrian troops found the headless body of their leader and fled in terror. 

As Spock stands there reminiscing and gazing upon the beauty of the lights, he wishes that he could in fact share this occasion with the captain. 

But again, that would be foolhardy.

*

He sneaks away each evening, repeating the lighting on the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth nights without incident. Kirk is gone those nights, again off to consume alcohol with Dr. McCoy. 

Each evening, Spock returns to the quarters hours before the captain does. The man proves severely inebriated.

*

On the sixth night. Kirk remains in quarters. After several moments of consideration, Spock picks up his box after Kirk’s evening meal has been served. Most likely the captain will not challenge him, never normally does. “My spouse, I shall take my leave of you this evening,” Spock says.

“Where’ya goin’, Spock?”

“I have work...an experiment I wish to perform.”

“How about you give me a blow job first, then you can go.”

“Yes, Jim.” Spock carefully sets the box on the table. He presents himself to his spouse, sinking to his knees in front of the man. 

*

Jim is mid brandy and mid guffah with Dr. McCoy about a recent bloody mission when the bosun’s whistle sounds. He hits the button with a fist. “Kirk. What is it?”

Sulu’s scarred, sneering face fills the screen. He suddenly grins wide like the Cheshire cat. 

“What is it, Sulu?” Kirk says with impatience at the security chief’s posturing.

Sulu chuckles. “I think you will enjoy--”

“Stop the giggling, you stupid shit. Spit it out or I’ll have you dragged to the booth so fast your ears’ll spin, Lieutenant.”

“Not this time, Captain. In fact, I believe I shall be awarded a promotion to first officer with this information.”

“Oh?” Kirk sips his brandy. “It better be good. If it isn’t important and this is a waste of my time, I shall personally come up to the bridge and slit your throat.”

“Captain,” Sulu says with a smirk. “There is surveillance video you should be interested in. It was protected, however I easily hacked into it. Please, observe, Captain.”

The image cuts from Mr. Sulu to Mr. Spock. In the observation deck. “What is he--?” Kirk stops. His breath hitches.

* 

“ _Maoz Tzur Y’shuati Lecha Naeh L’shabeiach_  
Tikon Beit T’filati V’sham Toda N’zabeiach  
L’eit Tachin Matbeiach Mitzar Haminabeiach  
Az Egmor B’shir Mizmor Chanukat Hamizbeiach

_Raot Savah Nafshi B’yagon Kochi Kaleh_  
Chayai Meireru V’koshi B’shibud Malchut Egla  
Uv’yado Hagdola Hotzi Et Hasgula  
Cheil Paroh V’chol Zaroh Yardu K’even Bimtzula 

_Dvir Kodsho Heviani V’gam Sham Lo Shakatti_  
Uva Nogeis V’higlani Ki Zarim Avadti  
Keitz Bavel Z’rubavel L’Keitz Shivim Noshati--”

Spock turns around. Kirk stands in the shadows behind him, dagger clasped in his right hand. Jim lowers the weapon and for a moment those hazel eyes appear lost, unable to decide what to do. The captain finally smirks then slides the dagger back into its holster. 

“Greetings, Jim," Spock says.

Kirk takes a few steps towards him. “Aren’t you going to finish the song?”

“Jim, what I have done warrants death.”

Jim nods. He is no longer smiling. “I know it does.”

“You must kill me.”

“Yes.”

“I am ready.” Spock stands at attention. Hands behind his back. 

“Finish the song.”

“Jim, please.”

“Finish the song, Spock. I insist.”

“As you wish, Captain.” Spock turns away from the captain, faces the Chanukah and the stars beyond. He resumes:

_"Krot Komat B'rosh Bikeish Agagi Ben Hamdatah_  
V'nih'yata Lo L'fach Ulemokeish V'ga-a-vato Nishba-ta  
Rosh Y'mini Niseita V'oyeiv Shmo Machita  
Rov Banav V'kin-yanav Al Ha-eitz Ta-lita 

_Y'va-nim Nik-bi-tzu A-lai A-zai Bi-may Chash-ma-nim_  
U'far-tzu Chomos Migda-lai V'tim-u Kol Ha-shma-nim  
U'mi-no-tar Kan-ka-nim Na-a-sa La-sho-sha-nim  
B'nei Vi-nah Y'mei Sh'mo-nah Kav-u Shir U'ri-na-nim 

_Cha-sof Z'ro Kodshecha V'ka-reiv Keitz Ha-yeshu-ah_  
N'kom Nikmat Ava-decha Mei-uma Har-sha-ah  
Ki Archa Ha-sha-ah V'ein Keitz Lemi Ha-ra-ah  
D'chei Admon B'tzeil Tzalmon Ha-keim La-nu Ro-im Shiv-ah." 

 

He finishes the song, keeps his gaze on the candles lit for the seventh night. There is peace in his heart and he can think of no greater a way to die, then meditating upon the beauty of the festival of lights. “I am ready to die, Jim.”

Jim comes up behind him, very close. His breath is hot on Spock’s neck. “Wait until the candles go out.” 

“Please, kill me now.”

“Wait until they are out.”

They stand there, Spock with Kirk behind him, gazing at the flames. Finally the candles extinguish. 

Kirk slides his dagger out of the holster, raises it high and then sinks the blade deep into Spock’s back.

*

Kirk stumbles into McCoy’s office. The man’s got a nurse bent over his desk and is busily fucking her till he realizes who’s stormed in. The doctor quickly pushes her away, then yanks up his trousers. The nurse takes off out of there.

“Jim, what the hell?” McCoy smooths down his sweaty hair.

“Bones....Spock!”

“What about him?” McCoy notices the green blood splattered all over Jim’s tunic. His eyes widen. “What happened to Spock?”

“Observation deck,” Jim gasps out. “You have to save his life.”

*

The scent of sickbay hits him as he regains consciousness. He finds himself lying on one of the biobeds. He is covered by a blanket up to the chest. There is a tight bandage wrapped around his midsection. He hears beeping from the monitor behind. He opens his eyes to find the chief medical officer standing over him. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t sleeping beauty,” McCoy jokes. 

Spock tries to grab at the man, to choke him but he is far too weak. McCoy easily avoids his clutches. Spock croaks out. “Why am I alive?”

“Because I saved your life. That’s why. However, you’re lucky. I almost lost you, three times.”

“Illogical. I committed treason, therefore, I should be dead.”

“I already served my ten minutes in the booth, full strength for saving your ass. Don’t you worry about that. I paid my debt.”

“Who ordered you to save my life?”

McCoy hesitates. “Captain Kirk did.”

“Why did the captain let me live?”

“You’ll have to talk to him about that, Spock.”

Just then, the captain enters the ward, the box under his arm. Spock eyes the box, then looks up into the man’s eyes. “Captain.”

Kirk sets the box down, then makes himself comfortable in chair next to the bed. “Finally awake, I see.”

“I should be dead.”

“Not if McCoy could help it.”

“Why?”

Kirk does not speak for several moments, studies his hands.  
McCoy comes closer, touches the captain on the shoulder. “Go on, Jim. Tell him what you told me.”

Kirk looks up, hesitates again. Blows out a puff of air. He closes his eyes, then opens them. “I’m Jewish too, Spock.”

“Indeed?” Spock did not know this. In fact, he often finds that he knows very little about the captain. They live together and are wedded to each other, engage in physical sexual activity, but they very rarely communicate. Spock knows nothing about Kirk’s childhood and personal history. And likewise Kirk has not shown any interest in Spock’s.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen a Chanukiah, Spock.” Kirk gives a small smile. “Brings back many memories.”

“Indeed.”

“Lock the door, Bones.”

“Captain,” Spock begins, “what are you going to--”

“Shhh,” Kirk says, holding up a hand. After McCoy nods at him. Kirk pulls out the Chanukiah from the box. He places the candles. “It’s the eighth night of Chanukah tonight. We cannot miss that.”

“This is not allowed,” Spock protests.

“I’m the captain, I’ll decide what is allowed and what isn’t on my ship. Maybe things need to change around here. The Empire dictates things a little too much. I’m getting sick of it. And, perhaps you and I need to get to know each other a little better.” Kirk glances over at Bones, who grins back, arms folded.

“We’ll have to take care of Sulu, later,” McCoy says with a conspiratory twinkle in those blue eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” Kirk tells him. “Sulu’s the best security chief I’ve ever had. A little cocky, but nothing the booth won’t sort out.”

“Still think you should slit that bastard’s throat,” McCoy replies.

“I don’t want that kid, Ensign Chekov in his place. Kid’s a little too eager. Needs those rough edges smoothed out first.”

“What about Uhura?” McCoy wonders.

“She’s already told me she doesn’t want the job. Anyway. Enough about ship’s business. Time to remember the miracle.” He lights the shamash candle, then lights the others and recites the blessing. 

The three of them stare at the flames for several moments. “It’s beautiful,” McCoy declares.

“Agreed,” Spock replies.

“ _Chag Sameach_ , Spock. I love you.” Kirk leans over and gives Spock a rare kiss. 

“And I you, Jim. _Chag Sameach_.”

_____

end.


End file.
